


Feeling Green

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Endings, M/M, Sickfic, it's Complicated (TM), kind of established relationship but not really, rare pair hell, this is short and incomplete because I'm bad at writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Faba feels like hot garbage. He goes to his parole officer to vent about it.





	1. Chapter 1

"You want a light?" Faba sneezes violently before he can respond, spittle flying in the opposite direction of them. He looks a little disoriented at the force of it. Nanu blinks, then shrugs. "Comin' down with somethin', huh," he mumbles as he lights his own cigarette. Faba sniffles wetly, then grimaces.

"Already have it," he says irritably, his voice thick. He holds his aching head with both hands. He can hardly breathe through his nose and his chest hurts. On top of that, his eyes are dry as the Haina desert. He wants to lie down for a long, long time. He feels disgusting. His already light skin looks even lighter, an almost sickly green taking over his face. He's very sure he has a fever. Nanu confirms it, resting the back of his hand against Faba's forehead gently.

"You're burning up pretty badly," Nanu comments, not turning his head. A steady stream of smoke pours from the corner of his mouth. The not-so-casual touch doesn't go unnoticed by Faba; it's just that he's too busy dealing with multiple uncomfortable and painful sensations all at once to really process what it means and how he feels about it. He decides to let it be. He'll think about it later. Nanu withdraws his hand easily.

They both sit in silence for a few beats. Faba desperately wishes he had some kind of tissue or handkerchief with him. At least then he wouldn't look totally revolting. He almost regrets agreeing to come meet here. He didn't want to get out of bed this morning. Wicke, of course, sent him immediately home when he got to Aether--which was some kind of mercy, but he still feels sore about it. He feels sore about everything. The way she passive-aggressively rubs his demotion in his face when he dares to get a little snarky--okay, maybe he deserves it. A little. A lot. But it's still rubbish.

He knows why he's here. Nanu may be a smartass just like him, but he can appreciate it somehow. Faba doesn't hate him, and that's more than he can say for a lot of people he has to interact with on a daily basis. He appreciates the company. Even if Nanu is his parole officer.

Faba breaks the silence and sighs miserably into his hands. He wants to sleep. He hasn't slept in what feels like days. Usually his Hypno would put him right out when he'd suffer bouts of insomnia, but this time it just wouldn't work. 

He's woken up in coughing fits the past few nights he'd tried the usual trick. It left him feeling even more drained. He's tried medicine, but even with that it seems to be taking its merry damn time--if it's working at all. It feels like it's been weeks since he felt well. He wonders if he engineered some superbug and accidentally gave it to himself. Oh, the karma. Dying would be better than this.

Nanu raises an eyebrow. "You tried bedrest and all that?"

"Can't really do that when I can't sleep." He rubs his mouth and sniffles again. He glowers at the pebble at his feet, as if it's responsible for this. Nanu takes another drag.

"Hypno not doing his job?"

"He does, it's just...it doesn't work. I wake up feeling even worse than before."

"Hm."

They sit in silence again. Nanu drops the butt of the cigarette on the ground and grinds the flame out with his sandal. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stands slowly. He peers over the horizon to see the sun starting to set, blazing orange streaking across the sky. He glances down at Faba, then away.

"You, uh, want to stay the night?"

"And get you sick? If you're that much of a masochist, sure," Faba teases. Nanu shakes his head, a small smirk creeping onto his face.

"Hey, I'm just trying to be nice." Nanu holds the door to the station open almost expectantly. Faba rolls his eyes but there's the hint of a grin in his expression.

"Are you going to nurse me back to health, Officer? I don't think that's your area of expertise." Nanu waves him inside and Faba stands and follows suit.

"Didn't say that." Nanu closes the door behind him and leans against it, folding his arms.

"It's not like I'd sleep well in your dingy stinky station anyway." Faba removes his coat and throws it carelessly over the counter with a flourish. A few meowths that were sitting there scatter, casting him a few disgruntled looks. It'll get cat hair all over it, but it doesn't matter; every part of him will probably be covered in it by the end of the night anyway. It's unavoidable here.

"You wound me," Nanu says flatly, feigning hurt, hand over his heart. Faba tries to muster up another grin, but his head throbs extra painfully at the moment, and he groans quietly, fingers applying pressure to his temples. "Just thought we could...I don't know, drink it away." He shrugs.

"Oh, yes. A hangover, that's exactly what I need," Faba says sarcastically. "I was wrong; you're a /sadist/." Nanu chuckles a bit. Faba saunters over to the couch and makes himself at home there, sprawling across it. Yes, there it is--all the hair. It goes flying into the air. He can feel some of it sticking in his nose. He's too exhausted to care, really. He's been here enough times; he's used to it--mostly.

Nanu walks past him on his way to the kitchen and Faba feels an inexplicable urge to grab Nanu's thigh. He must be delirious. Faba hears clinking and Nanu's sandals scuffing the floor. Sound is amplified to a painful degree. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, as if that will blot it out. He feels tiny padded feet drop onto his chest. He opens his eyes and a couple of the cats have already made a bed out of Faba, too. He lets it be. He's used to this, too. He's too tired to shoo them away anyway. The one closest to his face starts purring. It's...pleasant. He scratches it behind the ears.

"/Mrowr./"

He blinks and suddenly Nanu's sitting across from him on the equally dingy coffee table, a can of beer in his hand. Faba tries to look at him, focus his eyes, but Nanu's image swims. He blinks a few times to no avail. He decides to close his eyes again.

"You alright?"

"No."

"Maybe you should go to the hospital or something." Faba feels Nanu lay his hand across his forehead again, and this time it's a little different.

"Maybe," Faba mumbles. It feels nice.

"How long's this been goin' on?"

"It feels like days. Weeks. I'm not sure." He takes Nanu's hand without thinking much about it and lays Nanu's knuckles across his mouth.

"Hm." Nanu slowly takes his hand back. Something's changed in his expression, but Faba can't tell what it is. His vision's too blurry.

Faba must have blacked out for maybe five minutes because when he comes to again, Nanu's pressing something cold and wet to his forehead. A damp cloth. Faba remembers he has to breathe through his mouth and sucks in some air. Unfortunately, the speed of such an action causes him to cough repeatedly.

"Looked like you were in dreamland for a second there."

"Felt like a second," Faba croaks. He thinks he sees a smidgen of sympathy in Nanu's features. It's hard to tell. The man's face is a mask most days. Faba pauses. "Thank you," he says quietly. Nanu just nods. He takes a few sips out of the can, avoiding Faba's gaze, trying to be casual. There's a beat.

"Scooch over a little," he murmurs finally. He pulls Faba's legs up carefully and lays them over his lap as he sits down. Faba's stomach does a little flip. He's not sure if it's nerves or nausea. Maybe both. Or maybe it's the proximity. 

Nanu keeps his hands to himself--mostly. If his hand ends up on Faba's knee, Faba's certain it's an accident. A pleasant accident.


	2. Chapter 2

Nanu thinks it's about 2:00 AM, but he can't be sure. He's since lost track after his--what beer was it...? He's lost track of that, too. He can't be bothered to check the time in the corner of his computer either. His eyes are glued absently to the show in front of him. His empty beer can sits loosely in his clammy hand. His shirt sticks to his chest, too hot and wet, and if Faba weren't here he'd strip clear down to his underwear. He still has the impulse to do so, but he's not quite that drunk yet. Faba seems to still be half-asleep; it's been hours of them sitting like this. The cats have mostly relocated elsewhere, maybe somehow sensing how unwell and disgruntled Faba is. Nanu wonders distantly if he should just call somebody to take him home. But something nags at him. A greedy part of him likes this. He likes being this close, even though he'd never say it out loud. At the same time, however, it unnerves him. It makes his heart beat a little too hard. Faba's handsome, accomplished, well-spoken and Nanu....well, Nanu just isn't. He's a disgusting, sad slob. (/Though Faba might be an egotistical criminal, at least he's done something with his life/, Nanu's brain unhelpfully supplies.) Whatever warm, fuzzy feelings he felt creeping up in his chest are quickly squashed by familiar self-loathing. He sighs deeply and crushes the can. He drops it to the floor and decides to tear his unfocused eyes away from the cheesy trash he's been mindlessly staring at.

It takes him a moment to register that Faba's head is in his lap. Belatedly, it startles him. He doesn't remember that happening. He stares at a little stream of drool coming out of the side of Faba's mouth. Even sick, pale and otherwise gross, Faba is somehow pristine to him. Beautiful. Or maybe it's just Nanu's lonely pathetic crush that makes him see past it. Faba's cheek might as well be burning a hole against his pants. It must be the fever. Nanu prays it isn't getting worse. The last thing he wants to do is have to have the bastard die right here in his lap. He tilts his head to get a better look. Faba's face is pinkish now, which is better than the pale yellow it was before. Nanu doesn't think when he puts a hand on Faba's cheek. Faba stirs slightly, but he's still not fully conscious. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Nanu softly strokes his face with his thumb. Faba's expression relaxes marginally. 

They really shouldn't be doing this--Nanu shouldn't be acting like this. This isn't casual anymore.

Faba cracks his eyes open and it takes Nanu longer than usual to realize. His brain feels like it's been dumped in molasses. He freezes, a cold weight settling in his chest. He stares back down at Faba for what feels like an eternity. They don't say anything. Then Faba closes his eyes again and puts his hand over Nanu's. Even Faba's hand is incredibly warm. Nanu's must feel like ice comparatively. Faba shifts, then blinks. He suddenly sits up too quickly, having a moment of stark lucidity, and his head throbs. He groans and rubs his forehead. He turns away. Nanu knows he has no right to feel hurt. It's ridiculous. But his drunk brain doesn't think so.

"You wanna go home?" Nanu slurs after clearing his throat awkwardly. Faba doesn't answer right away. Nanu wants to dissolve into the floor. Did he misread all of this? Was he just imagining it? He's an idiot. Of course he was.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Faba swears under his breath, exasperated. Nanu swallows, anxiety sharply twisting his guts. Faba is quiet for a beat, then seems to realize he's been asked a question. "No, no, dar--Nanu." He turns to face him, dried snot crusted under his nose, some fresh wet stream still oozing crookedly over the corner of his mouth. Utterly inelegant, but Nanu is completely transfixed regardless. Faba gently grabs his wrists and Nanu freezes again. "I appreciate it," Faba manages, voice still croaky, even ragged. "The company, I mean." He swallows and glances to the side. "Thank you," he says sincerely. He lets go, but Nanu wishes he hadn't. He finds his hands chasing the touch. He leans in without thinking. It's all impulse, instinct, whatever sad, desperate emptiness in him that propels him forward, wanting to be filled. He sloppily, tenderly kisses the drool-covered side of Faba's mouth. 

He doesn't even care, not in that instant. Faba twitches and goes very still. Nanu wants to die, then. Tapu Bulu can break through his window and skull bash his head in. But Faba slowly kisses him back, just as sloppily, and Nanu's heart starts pounding like a jackhammer. He goes to pull Faba closer, but then the man jerks back. It feels like whiplash. Nanu blinks.

"Darling," Faba blurts, hand light on Nanu's chest. Nanu's cheeks heat up at the overly affectionate name. "I...I /am/ ill, you realize." They stare at each other once more, breathing softly. Faba turns his head and laughs, which descends into a coughing fit. Nanu rubs his back as easily and casually as he rubs his Persian's head. Something akin to relief floods Nanu's body and he suddenly feels even more exhausted. He tries to find some words, something witty to come back with, but he has nothing. His tongue is tied. He nods and shrugs instead.

Faba hums a pleased note and drapes his arms around Nanu's shoulders. "Fool."

"Oh, I'm a fool now, huh?" Nanu says hoarsely. There's the quip. He nervously settles his hands on Faba's lower back. "You were bein' sweet just a second ago." A crooked, mischievous grin splits across Faba's delirious face.

"Hush."

And Nanu does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always worry about making characters too out of character, but oh well. This was a fun exercise. =')

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (A lot of these headcanons and characterization are borrowed. I hope no minds too much.)


End file.
